Obsession
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: They say you never forget your first love...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: If their names look familiar, I probably don't own them.

Most people don't fall in love so early. Most people believe five-year-olds can't regard another person with the same kind of love adults do. Most people would call it "puppy love" or "crushes." Even worse, some would give a patronizing pat on the head and regard the entire thing as being "cute."

But for me it really was love at first sight.

My mother held my hand as we approached the large, red brick building. I fiddled with the belt loop of my long khaki pants (ironed the previous night, along with the blue button-up shirt). My mother licked her finger tips and tried to smooth down my unruly hair. My palms were sweating as I tightly gripped the straps of my Batman school bag.

"Now," she began, squatting down to be eye-level with me, "I'll be back to pick you up at 2:30. I want you to wait with the other children. Don't talk to strangers and don't get into any other cars. Understood?" I bit my lip and nodded solemnly. "Oh, sweetie, you are growing up so quickly," she said, tears glistening in her eyes as though I were getting married or going off in the army. She wrapped her arms around me in a hug I didn't return, and then she was gone. I was left in the middle of my peers, most of whom were shrieking at the idea of their parents leaving them alone.

All except one.

She was off to the side of everyone, twirling with her arms outstretched to the sides. As she did this, the red plaid skirt of her dress flared up, giving anyone who was watching a quick glimpse of white underwear. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail, but tendrils had already begun to fall out around her face.

She stopped when she caught sight of me. Titling her head to the side for a minute, she smiled and waved. Not knowing how to react, I shyly looked down at my saddle shoes. When I worked up the courage, I looked back, but she was already gone from the spot.. One thought came to mind:

_Green eyes_.

**Author's note**: So I'm not dead. Surprised? Yes, I know, I'm amazed I can actually do het as well. If you're thinking "Oh, this chapter is just so short because it's a prolouge!" well, you're wrong. Most of the chapters will be this short. I originally intended for this to be a one shot, but I realized it would probably work better as a set of shorts (and if not, I can always just combine them and re-post it or something). So let me know what you think! Oh, and the character from whose point of view this is told will be revealed eventually!


	2. Kindergarten

**Disclaimer**: If their names look familiar, I probably don't own them.

* * *

Arranged alphabetically in our desks, I sat in the row to her right, two seats behind her. I figured this was lucky as it allowed me to watch her without being caught. Well, at least not by _her_. So for the first week of school I admired her from afar.

The second week of school, I began strategically placing my mat next to her's during nap time and during games of "Duck, duck, goose" I was as gentle as possible when tagging her, and I _never_ labeled her as being the "goose."

The third week of school, Jack Kelly began sharing his animal crackers with her during snack time.

For the first time I knew heart break.

The two of them grew closer and during recess he would push her on the swings, obliging to her cries of "Harder! Push harder!" During rousing games of "Tag" he would chase her, regardless of whether or no he was "It," and she would shriek with delight when he finally caught her.

I sat on the seesaw and watched.

By the end of the week, they had begun pushing their mats together, practically napping atop one another. I grinned smugly when the teacher put _that _to an end. Though it didn't falter their affections. I heard they had even had _dates_, but then five-year-olds are notorious for exaggerating.

Finally, after a three week fling, Jack Kelly began sharing his animal crackers with Betsy Anderson.

To her credit, she took it on the chin, only crying for a couple of minutes and biting her lip to keep from pouting.

I knew then to act and act soon. So the next day, as the box of animal crackers came around, I made it a point to grab two tigers (her favorite) and an elephant (my favorite). My hands full, I looked to where she was standing and my lower lip jutted out. Chad Meyers was already handing her his crackers and she was giggling again, Jack and Betsy long forgotten.

I didn't realize how tightly I was squeezing my hands until I looked down and saw a crumble of cookies in my palms. It made biting back the tears even harder.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well, I just wrote this tonight. I'd been meaning to update this for a while, but I kept putting it off. Hope you enjoyed it and I hope it has intrigued you enough to read the next chapter...whenever I get around to putting it up. 


	3. 2nd Grade

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize the name, they aren't mine.

* * *

The Halloween party for Ms. Carla's 2nd Grade class took place on Friday, the day before Halloween. The class room was buzzing with seven-year-olds dressed up as the latest comic book character or Disney princess.

That morning, the younger classes had gone "trick-or-treating" around the older classes, collecting candy bars, lollipops, sweet tarts, and taffy (one of the teachers had the nerve to give out pennies instead of candy!). The afternoon was spent at an apropos Halloween festival in our own classroom.

Around the room tables had been set up, holding cookies, candy, drinks, and anything else the students could desire. The class bulletin board had become a "Pin the Tail on the Black Cat" game and nearby a ring toss area had been set up.

At the front of the class was a large jar of candy corn. Every student examined the jar and wrote down a guess as to how many candy corns were in there. The student who guessed correctly, or the student who was closest, won all of the candy corn. I guessed 105.

She was dressed as Princess Jasmine, complete with black wig and stuffed tiger. I was dressed as Frankenstein's monster. Having observed her candy habits before, I knew candy corn was here favorite, hence my wanting to win the jar of candy corn.

My bag was half filled with candy from the morning trip to the older classes. I had already planned to give her half of my candy (including _all _of my candy corn). But she was already surrounded by most of the girls and a few of the guys. Right by her side was Chad Meyers, dressed as Aladdin. The entire class was marveling over how "cool" it was they matched. As though it was so coincidental considering how recently the movie had come out!

From the front of the class room, Ms. Carla announced that they had their winner in the Candy Corn contest. I gripped my bag tighter. Having spent close to half an hour studying the jar, I knew it was as good as mine.

"And the winner is...Chad Meyers with a guess of 156! Only off by seven candy corns!"

The class erupted into applause as Ms. Carla delivered the jar to Chad. He immediately handed it over to her, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return.

I trudged over to the corner, sat down, sucking on a lollipop, and didn't talk to anyone else for the rest of the day.

* * *

**AN**: I figure I should explain something Each chapter will progress two years. Last chapter took place in kindergarten, this chapter took place in 2nd grade, etc. Figured I should mention that so people aren't confused in future chapters.

Reviews make the world go round. Or something like that. Thank you to my past reviewers!


	4. 4th Grade

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Insert witty comment here.

* * *

Mr. Harrison's 4th grade class took a spring field trip to the city aquarium. As we filed one by one from the bus, we were instructed to each choose a "buddy" to stick with for the visit and to stay close to the chaperones. My head spun, looking for her. But before I could reach her, her hand was enclosed in the hand of Tony Higgins. I, instead, ended up with Joey Trallace who seemed to have a constant runny nose (and a constant absence of tissue). He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and then held it out for me to hold.

I made it a point to stay right behind the two at all times. As the class past through each exhibit, I barely even glanced at the fish, reptiles, amphibians, and other aquatic life forms. I simply watched carefully, like a tiger waiting for its prey to lower its guard, only I was waiting for Tony to leave her side for just a moment, giving me ample time to cut in.

The moment came as we entered the turtle exhibit. Tony whispered something to her, with a sly grin, and then made his way to the water fountain near the restrooms. She stood there alone.

Working up my courage, I walked toward her. Before I was even halfway there, a suspiciously moist hand grabbed mine. "I wanna see Big Bertha!" a whiny voice cried, referring to one of the aquarium's star attractions..

Sighing, impatiently, I told him to go without me. He shook his head. "Mr. Harrison said you have to stick with your buddy!"

I bit my tongue, trying to figure out how to get away from him. My efforts were useless, though, as I saw Tony returning to her. My body went lax and I let myself be dragged toward Big Bertha.

When we came to the penguin exhibit, I dragged Joey to the front of the crowd where she was standing. Her face pressed against the glass (despite disapproving looks from the security guard) she studied the penguins as I studied her.

One of the penguins waddled over to where her face was and lightly tapped his beak against the glass. She smiled and he did it again.

"He's trying to kiss you!" one of the other girls shrieked in delight. The class erupted into giggles, and she puckered her lips and pushed them harder against the glass. The penguin responded by pecking the glass again.

Never in my life did I think I would be so envious of a penguin.


	5. 6th Grade

Disclaimer: _Newsies_ is the property of Disney.

* * *

It was the day we were to be assigned partners in Mrs. Mooney's 6th grade science class and I had my heart set on her. By this time she had hit puberty and hit it hard. She had been wearing a bra for a year now, due more to necessity than to "be cool." Unfortunately for me, I had recently hit puberty as well, making her appearance no easier to bear. Walking with my books in front of my crotch had become routine for me even without seeing her. 

On that particular day she was wearing a white polo shirt which she had owned for the past couple of years and which was clearly too small for her. She also wore a pink jumper which I was positive was shorter than the dress code should have allowed. She made-up her face as only a pre-teen using make-up for the first time could. Pink eyeshadow was applied heavily to her lids, black eyeliner was overused, giving her the Cleopatra look, and pale pink lip gloss was smudged across her mouth. Yet, she still caught the attention of every boy in the class and she was aware of this fact.

When Mrs. Mooney said that she would be announcing the lab partners, I crossed my fingers and closed my eyes. When her name was called, I held my breath.

"And you," Mrs. Mooney said to her, "will be paired with...David Jacobs."

A huge gust of wind was blown out of me. I whipped around and saw the two of them set up at one of the lab tables. He smiled at her and she giggled in an obvious "pre-teen" attempt to flirt. Despite my feelings for her, even I could see through her act. David Jacobs was the smartest kid in our grade and being partners with him almost always guaranteed an 'A' in the class. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, figuring out how she could manipulate him into doing all the work for her. He, of course, was lapping up her attention like honey.

Grumbling, I took a seat with my appointed partner, Dora Mason who I think was currently suffering from pink eye. With that eye she looked into the microscope we were to share and adjusted the lens accordingly. Looking up she passed the microscope to me so that I too could look at whatever was lying there. As I hesitantly looked into the eyepiece, I knew I'd be glad to do all of the work for her (even if I was only rewarded with false flirtations) any day.


	6. 8th Grade

Disclaimer: _Newsies_ is the property of Disney.

* * *

8th grade graduation has different meanings for different students. For her it meant she could now move on to older and more experienced guys; for me it meant I would be the target of bullying for older and more experienced guys.

Our small class was gathered outside in the cool May night. Parents, teachers, and students alike snapping pictures in an effort to capture the moment forever. All around, students gave tearful hugs good-bye, signed yearbooks with "Keep in touch!" signatures, even to those they barely knew, those they had talked about and dissed for the past four years.

I stood holding my cap in one hand and my diploma in the other. My parents were snapping pictures, my mother shouting for me to smile. This was, after all, a happy occasion. My eyes kept wandering to where she stood, surrounded by friends and admirers alike, signing yearbooks and kissing cheeks. She looked radiant in a light pink strapless gown under the navy graduation robes we had worn for the ceremony. Her face was made up with more expertise now, as she had learned how to apply make-up without looking like a corner street whore. Her green eyes seemed to pop and her light brown hair (now highlighted with blonde streaks) was elegantly pulled back, only a few strands falling out to frame her face.

She had signed my yearbook already with "All the best! Keep in touch!" A generic signature, yes, but better than nothing. Still, I wanted more. A picture at the very least.

I asked my parents to wait for me. Puffing out my chest I swallowed harshly and strode over there, trying, and failing, to exude self-confidence. Just as I was about to reach where she stood, Sean Conlon, known to his friends as "Spot" slid up behind her, arms coming around her waist.

"What so you say we head out? A bunch of us guys know where we can grab some beers," he whispered into her ear while her parents were talking to the principal. She simply giggled and told him she would get rid of her parents. He responded by kissing her on the lips, an action she returned with even greater enthusiasm.

She went over to her parents and Sean stopped to look at me. "See something you like, dork?" Biting my lip, I shook my head before retreating back to my parents.

* * *

AN: Oh...em...gee! This is my first story to hit more than five chapters! I'm so proud! This story is also proof, both to myself and any readers I may still have out there, that I am not dead!


	7. 10th Grade

**Dislciamer:** I don't own Newsies. It is the property of Disney.

* * *

I felt my body slam against the hard steel of the locker, the lock on it jutting into my back. "Outta my way, geek!" snarled one of the various apes from the football team. The halls of the high school were crowded with people rushing to get out as quickly as possible. The lockers lining the hall were decorated with hearts and Valentine's Day cards, Girls opening their lockers squealed with delight upon seeing the surprises left for them by boyfriends or friends or secret admirers.

I already had retrieved my books from my locker (and I was not surprised to see there were no cards waiting for me inside) and had tried to surreptitiously stakeout near her locker. I had spent the previous night making a card for her. I think making a card is so much more personable than buying one. The card was red with the words "You Are Perfect" on the front along with four or five candy hearts. On the inside I included a heartfelt letter telling her how I felt about her. I didn't sign my name (I left it as "Secret Admire") but I did tell her if she would like to meet me to go behind the Science wing after school.

I straightened up as I saw her approaching. Her dark blue jeans clung snuggly to her hips and her red, short-sleeved turtle neck was short enough that it showed a flash her nice, taut stomach when she reached up. Her hair was down around her shoulders and, should a piece fall into her face, she simply had to give her head a flip and the rebellious strand went back to its proper place.

As she soon as she opened her locker it was slammed shut. She turned and grinned at the sight of Oscar Delancey, another of the aforementioned apes from the football team. She leaned back against the closed locker as he talked to her, his right hand pressed against the locker as he leaned his body in closer to hers. Whatever he was saying to her, she seemed to be enjoying it.

He released his hand from the locker, allowing her to open it. She pulled out a stack of Valentine's Day cards, though she barely even acknowledged them. She knew she would be getting all of them, so why get excited over it?

Oscar took her arm and led her away from the locker. As they passed by, I saw one of the cards in her arms fall from the pile and land with a plop. Neither she nor Oscar nor anyone else in the hallway noticed it. I looked down at it and saw the words "You Are Perfect" staring back at me.

* * *

AN: So I think there will be one more chapter and then **maybe** an epilogue. The next chapter will be longer and it will be...well...a little different. I don't want to say more and give it away, though.


	8. 12th Grade

Disclaimer: I don't own _Newsies_, Disney does!

**AN:** Okay, so I need to warn you that this chapter is a bit intense and more mature than the previous chapters have been. I don't want to give anything away, but be wary when reading.

* * *

The hotel ballroom was decked out to the max with balloons, streamers, glitter, and almost any other kind of ornamentation one could think of. The banner that hung above the entrance read "Heaven on Earth," the prom theme that the class had elected. The floor itself was crowded with boys and girls jumping and gyrating to the music blaring from the speakers. The boys were all in their tuxedos and the girls looked as though they had spent the entire day primping. Most of them probably had.

I saw her in the middle of the crowd. She looked absolutely stunning in her dark red halter top gown. The top swooped down below her neck showing off a good amount of cleavage. The back of the dress fell to right above the bra line showing off her beautifully tanned back. The bottom of the dress fell elegantly about her, hugging slightly at the waist and hips, showing off her hour-glass figure. From the bottom hem I could see two silver shoes peeking out, glittering. Her hair was pulled up with a single tendril falling out into a curl. The tiara she wore on her head sparkled almost as much as her eyes did. Toping off the ensemble was a single sliver bracelet with a heart charm, a butterfly charm, and a martini glass charm.

I would have enjoyed the sight of her if she were not currently in the arms of Brent Keller, known to his friends as Blink because of his ever present eye patch. Her arms were encircled about his neck and his were wrapped tightly around her waist. Her head rested on his shoulder as they swayed to the music. I spotted his right hand make its way up her back and softly begin stroking the exposed skin.

I had to get out of there. Twelve years of pent up desire was threatening to erupt.

I sprinted through the doors and out into the lobby, passing the teachers who had set up out there to collect tickets and make sure everyone was tastefully dressed before entering the dance. I burst through the double doors leading outside and clumsily traipsed down the steps. When I reached the bottom step, I sat down on it, removing my jackets and loosening my tie. Coming here tonight had been a bad idea.

I don't know how long exactly I sat there. I was in a trance, thinking about her, reliving every moment I'd had with her. Rethinking every time I caught sight of her and how it brought a strange feeling to my stomach, how it began bringing a strange feeling to my groin. I thought of the first time I had seen her, that first day of school. She had caught my eye and smiled at me for the first, and so far last, time.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the doors open and the clacking of heels as someone descended the steps.

"Gotta smoke?" a voice asked nearby. I turned to look and saw her standing there. For the second time in my life she had actually acknowledged my presence! It was different now, though, than it had been. She didn't look at me with a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face; she looked at me with indifference in her eyes and a grimace on her face.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" she asked. I realized I had been staring at her.

"Sorry," I managed to choke out, "I don't smoke."

She rolled her eyes and snorted. "Fine. Can you give me a ride home then?"

"You're leaving the prom? What happened to your date?"

"I caught the fucker groping Betsy Anderson," she spat out in the direction of the hotel. "That fucking bitch has been stealing my boyfriends for as long as I can remember." She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. "So are you going to give me a ride or not?"

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. She was asking me for a ride. She was going to be in my car, sitting only inches away from me. "Of course!" I blurted, blushing at my enthusiasm.

We walked silently to where I had parked my '95 Nissan Sentra. When she saw the car she grimaced, obviously used to riding in better vehicles. Still, she slipped into the passenger seat with no verbal complaints. I pulled out of the parking lot, wishing someone had been there to see her and to see that she had voluntarily gotten into my car and was voluntarily sitting next to me.

We drove through the city toward our town. I was silent because I was so nervous. She was silent, though I think it was more because she didn't consider me worth the effort it would take to speak. In stead, she opted to pull out the flask she had concealed in her clutch and take a long swig from it. I couldn't be sure, but I think it was vodka.

Unable to take the silence any longer I said, "Can you believe only twelve years ago we were sitting in Ms. Irving's class and now we're going to be graduating?"

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "You were in Ms. Irving's kindergarten class?" she asked with no actual interest.

"Yeah, we sat kind of near each other."

"Mm," she replied, obviously tired of the subject. She took another swig from the flask. "What's you're name again?" she asked.

"Josh. Uh, Hauser. Josh Hauser," I stammered.

She gave a short laugh. "Oh yeah! Didn't we used to call you 'Specs' or something in grade school?"

My face reddened at the nickname I had been given in 5th grade that had followed me through my entire high school career. "Yeah, you guys still do."

She took a long swig from the flask and then started giggling. "God, weren't you the one that Bobby Miller gave the swirlee to and you, like, wet your pants or something?" By now she was laughing, practically howling at the memory.

"I didn't actually wet my pants," I said softly, my ears beginning to burn. "You know," I said, cutting in, trying desperately to get her to stop laughing, "I've always had a bit of a crush on you."

That worked. She looked at me, her eyes wide. "Wait, what?" she asked, an incredulous tone to her voice.

"Yeah," I said, a small grin forming on my lips. "I remember on our first day of kindergarten you smiled and waved to me and I thought you were so pretty."

She was silent for a moment. She downed the remaining alcohol in the flask and placed it back in her bag. "I don't remember doing any of that stuff," she muttered, her words a bit slurred. "Probably a fucking wet dream you had or something."

"I still do like you," I said, desperately hoping she would be moved by it.

She was moved, but not in the way I had hoped. She began convulsing with laughter, tears forming in her eyes. "Me? You like me?" She threw her head with a howl. "What? Do you expect me to now confess that I've always had a secret love for you or something? Sorry, Jason or Jerry or whatever your name was. SPECS!" She screamed with a laugh. "God, you're such a geek. Like I'd ever give you the time of day." Her head was tilted back and her eyes were misty. Her body was swaying back and forth a bit.

During her tirade I had felt my face grow redder and redder. My ears and cheeks were completely on fire and my stomach was doing flip flops. These weren't the same flip flops that I usually had when I saw her. These flip flops were violent and angry. My hands tightened on the wheel as I pulled to the side of the road. We were in a rural area that was between the city and our town. I violently jerked the car into park and turned off the engine. She didn't notice that the car had stopped and her body continued to sway. I simply stared at her, emotions rolling around every which way inside of me. Love. Lust. Embarrassment. Anger.

She looked over at me, my face red as a tomatoes, my hands stark white on the steering wheel. "What, are you angry little Specs?" she asked in a low teasing voice.

My hand shot out and slapped her harshly. Her head snapped to the right, hitting the window harshly. When she turned back to me her eyes were wide her mouth agape. Her face was red where I had struck her and she gently touched the area with her fingers. "What are you—?"

I cut her off, grabbing her arms and shoving her roughly against the door. She shrieked, though it was a feeble one, thanks in part to the vodka running through her system. Her body was limp and her hands were swatting haphazardly. Every blow she gave, though, was weak and they grew weaker as she went on.

I pressed harder on her body and trapped her wrists above her head. Holding them in place with my right hand, my left hand grabbed at her stockings and underwear, yanking them down with a force I didn't even know I had.

"Please," came a soft whisper, "I…don't…no." Her voice was trembling and slurring now. She had stopped rebelling physically, her body tired and strained from the fight.

Paying her and her protest no heed, I thrust in. Her scream was louder now, but I knew it wouldn't be heard.

When I had finished with her I released her hands. They fell limply to her side and she made no effort to move. Her breathing was raspy now and her eyes looked at me with terror. I removed the charm bracelet from her wrist and held it up, watching it gleam like a trophy or medal. I placed it safely in my pocket. Then I gently leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. She made a soft noise, but didn't stop me. Had it been under other circumstances, the kiss would have been sweet and romantic.

When I came back up she looked at me. She wasn't crying or trembling and her eyes held no terror or fear in them. She looked almost relaxed as though she had accepted her fate and accepted what would happen.

I wrapped my hands around her slender neck, my thumbs right on the trachea. I gently applied pressure, my eyes never leaving hers. She simply lay there and allowed it to happen. As her eyes began to glaze over I looked down sweetly at her and whispered, "I love you."

* * *

**AN:** So…who was actually expecting that? I was going to write an epilogue for the piece, but I feel this is a much more powerful ending and an epilogue just isn't needed. A big thank you to my loyal readers and reviewers. I hope this chapter hasn't turned you off of the piece or anything.


End file.
